Window Popping
by Padfoot Reincarnated
Summary: Finny convinces a seemingly reluctant Gene to break the rules for once, and is happily rewarded for his endeavor. FinnyGene slash.


**Ah. Just finished reading A Separate Peace for my English class. I was actually surprised that my citiy's ultra-conservative school board let it through. The slash is SO obvious it's hardly even subtext. And then I looked at some essays about it, along with the Spark Notes, and found out that I'm _definitely_****not the only one who sees it. Anyway, Gene/Finny is the new love of my life, so this was pounded out within five hours of finishing the book. I tried to stay as close to the voice of the original book as I could, so any comments on how I did on that would be great. **

I remember the first time that I ever felt as though I was doing something illegal; contraband, illicit. It was on account of Phineas, of course: ever since I had started at Devon, everything seemed to be because of Finny. It wasn't that I minded, on the contrary, I loved to think he needed me; he usually was completely independent, despite his long standing loyalty to every group he ever joined.

It was nighttime, but there was a full moon, and Finny always insisted on sleeping with the window open; so the room was bright enough to read in. I couldn't bring myself to sleep, so I pulled a chair over by the window and studied Latin—_Amor est vitae essential_, _Ab imo pectore._

Finny was asleep, and in sleep, he had a sort of clumsiness that was foreign to him while waking. He had rolled to the edge of the bed;, barely avoiding a fall, and his left arm, all taut muscle, curled over the bed to scrape the carpeted floor. His mouth yawned open, bright red lips framing it in an unconscious pout; the lines of his face stretching to follow.

I stared at him briefly, then shook my head; suddenly, I didn't feel like studying. I pulled the chair back to the desk, and climbed into my bed. Finny's face was fully illuminated, and I watched him silently for a few minutes, synchronizing my breathing with his own.

I closed my eyes, and was on the brink of sleep, when I heard his voice. "Gene?" I considered feigning sleep, but it wasn't worth it; he would have kept on talking just the same.

"Yes, Finny, I'm awake." There was a pause, but I had no time to be relieved; this indicated to me only that Finny was gearing up for a long monologue.

"Good," he said, sitting up and jumping out of bed in one fluid, catlike motion. "Because I'm bored, and—"

I managed to cut him off. "What does that have to do with me?"

He threw his arms up and shot off the floor, looking comical in his too-short pajamas. "Why, it has _everything_ to do with you! How do you expect me to alleviate my terrible condition without the help of a friend?" There was one, horrible moment when I imagined what he might have in mind, and then he continued. "You and I, my friend, are going to take a visit to the gymnasium."

The meaning behind his words took a moment to sink in, and by that time, all I could manage was, "You're bored in the _middle of the night_?"

He flicked on the lamp and nodded impatiently. "Yes. I'm going to the gym, and you're coming with me."

"We'll get caught," I reminded him, as he slipped his feet into a pair of slippers and grabbed a jacket that was hanging over the back of the chair.

He paused in his endless movement to look at me. "No, we won't," he said patiently, as though trying to explain something to a small child. "All the teachers are asleep. And we won't be loud, will we?"

I was already sitting up in bed, and now I stood as though propelled by some invisible force stronger than myself. "No," I agreed automatically. "I guess we wouldn't."

He grinned. He knew he had me at that point. "Then what are you waiting for?"

I laughed, in shock about what I was going to do, and slipped a pair of boots on over my bare feet. Finny reached over and thumped me on the back, resting his hand briefly on my shoulder. "Let's go," he said.

The hinges of our door creaked as we opened it, and my boots made echoing noises as we trooped through the hall. Finny was a shadow, he darted around corners ahead of me, and I lost track of him; he was a moccasin-footed Indian; a daring Greek athlete.

Once we got outside, we were safe. It was November, and already there was snow on the ground—not much, but we shivered in our light jackets, and Finny yelped as water seeped through his slippers.

We were silent as we walked, until about halfway there. Phineas began to hum under his breath. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, and smiled; I would never admit it, but I found his tone-deafness somewhat endearing.

We were past the dorms and chapel by that point, so Finny began to sing. His voice was nice, like church bells—though sometimes he didn't remember the words, and he never sang on pitch. He threw an arm around me. "Sing, Gene," he urged, staring directly at me. I ducked my head down and blushed, fighting back a smile.

But I did sing, a little. I recognized the tune he was mangling, and somehow managed to sing on key. A brilliant grin lit up his face when he heard my voice, and he whooped with delight before jumping back into the song. Our voices mingling were the only sound in the air that night, and I was always surprised no one heard it. _I_ heard it with great clarity, and reveled in the contrast between his clear, high voice, and my own, somewhat raspy one.

We came to the gym; the door was locked, but everyone knew that the window by the elm tree was broken. We went around back and shimmed up the tree trunk. Finny went first, and popped the window open. I struggled up myself, clutching the tree with the inside of my thighs and barely made it. He waited for me at the top, and when I reached him, helped me climb through the window. I went in legs first, and he clutched my hands to stop me from falling.

"Your hands are cold," I complained, for lack of anything better to say.

His eyes shone happily back at me. "Yours are too," he said, and I dropped the last six inches to the gymnasium floor. He jumped the whole six and a half feet, landing beside me a second later.

Now that we were actually there, the feeling of uncertainty that had overtaken me in the dorm returned. I rarely came to gym unless forced; I felt inadequate when measured against Finny and some of the other boys in our class.

Finny was sure of himself, as he always was. He glanced around at the bars and weights, and for a minute I thought he was going to make me do chin-ups. Instead, he grabbed my hand and began tugging me towards the pool. "Come on," he said. "We're going swimming."

Normally, I would have protested, but now I could find no reason to do so. We had broken out of our dorm at night, and we were already at the gym; if we were caught, we would probably already be expelled. Swimming would do no additional harm, and I knew Finny liked to swim.

He had already stripped down to his underwear. I couldn't help noticing how he looked in the dim light reflecting off of the pool water; his chest was finely sculpted from hours of athleticism, and his calves and thighs were firm, coiled springs of energy.

"Hurry," he commanded. I obeyed, thoughtlessly unbuttoning my shirt and pulling my pants over my heavy boots. I trotted over to stand beside him, kicking my boots off as I went. He shot a self-satisfied grin at me, then pushed me face first into the water.

I surfaced, and heard a second splash. I saw the shape of Finny's head bobbing in the water beside me. "Race you to the other side!" he yelled, and kicked off from the wall without a second thought. I took a moment to react, but when I did, I was off as fast as I could. He was already several lengths ahead of me, and I felt the ripples from his kicking feet.

Without warning, he stopped, abruptly turned around, swam under me, and grabbed my feet. I yelped and kicked away, standing on the bottom of the pool. Finny came to the surface beside me. "Gene, Gene, Gene," he said mournfully, shaking his head. "This is not right at _all_."

I was surprised; I thought I had the mechanics of swimming down very well. I could do the breast stroke and the butterfly quite well, and I knew better than Finny how to turn my head to the side to breathe.

As if reading my mind, he continued. "Oh, yes, you swim well enough," he said. "I mean, you know what _they_ want you to do. But come on, Gene, you can do better."

I paused and stared at him, taking in the way his face looked, shining with water. He cocked an eyebrow at me, waiting. "Fine," I said shortly. His smile spread wider across his face, and it was the last thing I saw before I dove into the water.

I found the ground with my hands, and managed to get a hold of it. I shot my legs straight into the air, and walked along the pool floor with my palms. Moving slowly, I made it about five feet before I lost my breath and had to surface. Finny had been dogpaddling beside me, and when I came up he planted his feet.

"That, pal, is how swimming is _meant_ to be," he said admiringly. I smiled, glad that the relative darkness would hide at least _some_ of the joy I felt at his words.

"Look," Finny said. "Let's do it together. Not a race, you know; we can just walk on our hands together."

I nodded in agreement, and he stood beside me. His body was pressed against mine from shoulder to toes, he felt cool and slick, and he was my best friend.

"Ready?" he asked. "One—two—three!" We both turned and dove towards the ground at that point. Underwater, we slipped away from each other a bit, but I could still feel his feet and ankles banging against mine at the surface.

I felt a face near mine, his cheek brushed my ear, and his feet above water slipped away. "Open your eyes!" I heard Finny call, muffled, yelling to be heard under water. I did, and the chlorine stung my eyes.

I saw Finny as a dim blue blur. He was lying on the floor of the pool, back scraping the bottom, and his face was just below mine. There was a flash of white, and I knew he was smiling at me. Then his hands were on my wrists—strangely, they seemed warmer than they had on the surface, and he was tugging me down. I had plenty of air, so I didn't panic, I was just curious to see what he was up to.

His eyes locked on mine for one brief moment, sparking green with a laugh behind them. We were only inches apart, yet in the next moment, he closed the gap between us, placing a hand on either side of my head and pressing his lips to my cheek.

I tried to gasp, and instead inhaled a mouthful of water. Finny released me, and I came to the surface choking. By the time I stopped, Finny was up beside me. I wiped the water from his eyes and watched him. He was staring back expectantly, a tentative grin curving his lips.

"Gene?"

I bit my lip, not quite sure what to say. I supposed he hadn't done anything especially outrageous—he had kissed my _cheek_, if it could even really be called a kiss. Yet as I recalled it, I felt my skin growing hot; certainly not a proportionate reaction. But still, that peculiar tilt to his smile made me wonder…

"Yes, Finny."

He brought his hand out of the water, and it grazed the side of my face. I felt myself shiver, but I didn't move away. His other hand came around to the small of my back, and I was completely still, water and Phineas around me.

Then he leaned forward, and, ever so gently, his lips grazed mine. He pulled away before I had time to react.

"You know, Gene," he said—and, if I'm not mistaken, his voice was shaking a little, something I never heard in him before or after.

I cut him off. "Wait," I said, and feeling more scared than I had in a long time, moved forward to kiss him myself. His eyes blinked shut in surprise, and mine followed. His hand was on my waist, and my palms rested on his slippery shoulders.

We broke for air, and this time we were both smiling.

"Still bored?" I asked, teasing him.

He laughed, a surprised sound. "No," he said. "That's why I brought you—you _do_ always know what to do."

**Well? What'd you think? Were they in character, did it flow, was it fun to read? Any comments you have would be great! Finny promises that if you review, he will stay away from any possibly life threatening trees, and bake you cookies instead. (Yeah, I stoop to bribery).**


End file.
